I ventured over to Chelsea after work this week to catch the Eventide show. I was expecting a smaller crowd because it wasn't being held at Bryant Park, but, of course, the line went all the way down the block. I sat outside in the cold for a good 30 minutes, but once we congregated inside it wasn't nearly as bad as the madhouse at the Rock & Republic show.

The girl who checked me in knew who I was after I told her my name: "From Jossip?" she asked. Either I've hit the big time or she had gone over that list one too many times. I have a feeling it's the latter. But I did feel important because I was assigned a seat this time around — and not even in the last row!

I enjoyed the clothes more at this show — all the outfits offered some variety and seemed wearable. It was over within five minutes, which disappointed me. I've figured out that's how Fashion Week goes: You spend a good hour or so making it into the venue and waiting around and suddenly the show starts and ends before you can blink twice. I suppose that's better than checking your watch constantly.

At this event we received gift bags, which excited me until I noticed the only treat inside was a tube of the wrong shade of lisptick. But hey — it's free, and it's Fashion Week. Hard to complain.